It's Not About the Words, It's About You
by Red Cloud Phoenix
Summary: Jack Driscoll thinks about his love for Anne on the way up the Empire State Building. He remembers the first time he knew he was in love, and it was something writing could not possibly give.


It's Not About the Words, It's About You

Note: Jack thinks about his love for Anne on the long ride up the elevator in the Empire State Building.

Jack Driscoll prayed that the elevator would speed up. He had been in this elevator for a good three minutes now, and the number above him still read fifty. Anne was up there somewhere, with Kong…

The thought gave him a hint of jealousy. Did she love that creature more than she loved him? Had the Kong shown her more happiness than what he was able to give her? He couldn't blame Kong for falling in love with her- Anne was so beautiful that the most brutal beast could be tamed under the light of her luminous eyes. They were so powerful, so captivating. He remembered watching her shoot Carl's picture on the Venture. He had wanted to make sure that Carl had interpreted his script down to every last word, every action. He found himself watching her instead. He had written about love, yes, how he had dreamed of it, incorporated the meaning of love in his plays. He was a writer- he could write about anything and sound intelligent. But the feeling that spread through him at the sight of her couldn't be felt in writing. It was a novel come to life.

He had looked at her once, and he just knew. It was the girl born to play this role, the role he had created. She was exactly what he had envisioned.

He looked at her once, and he knew that the love he had imagined his entire career was coming to life in the form of a woman named Anne Darrow. And he, Jack Driscoll, had found the girl he had been searching for. Born to play this role. Born to make him mesmerized. He was in love.

Without knowing it, he was soon thinking about the night he had showed the script to her. Their conversation came to his mind:

_You are writing a comedy._

_Yes, I guess I am. I'm writing it for you._

_Why?_

_Why else would I write a play for you? Isn't it obvious?_

_To me, it isn't. _

_It's not about the words._

It was all about her. Their kiss. Their growing love.

They had made love quietly, on Anne's neat bed. He had been as gentle as a lamb as Anne had unbuttoned his shirt. Meanwhile, he had begun undressing her, feeling her smooth skin under his fingers.

He opened his eyes to reality.

"Come on, come on…" Jack wanted the elevator to move faster. It had reached almost 80.

The sound of Kong made his heart beat faster. He was dying. Only the dying groaned in such an agonizing tone.

The doors opened, and Jack swiftly ran out to the last remaining stairs. _Anne must be devastated, _he thought. _But she still has me._

Exhausted, Jack gathered the energy to climb those last metal bars. Sure enough, a blonde figure was standing there at the top. Anne.

"Anne!" he called out to her. She turned, facing him with the eyes Jack admired so much. She walked closer to him, and he wrapped his lanky arms around her body. She gladly leaned on him.

"Are you alright? Are you cold?" Jack took off his coat and threw it around her back.

Anne nodded. She smiled sadly at him. Whatever pain she felt, she passed onto him.

"Oh, Jack… he's gone…"

"Shhh…" He rubbed her back to comfort her. "I know, sweetheart…" Each sob sent her shaking a bit. "But the important thing is that I finally have you safe. Everything's going to be okay."

"Thank you for saving me." She tried to stop her tears from flowing.

Laughing: "I should have thanked you ages ago."

"It was nothing… saving you was not a burden at all."  
"It wasn't?"

"Anne…I…"

Anne smiled happily at him now. She glanced at him with knowing eyes. Her eyes filled once more with what he hoped to be tears of happiness.

"I'm in love with you."

No sooner did the words escape from his tightly shut mouth did he realize that Anne was holding him more tightly than ever before.

Like a picture, this moment would surely be frozen in Jack's mind. Her dazzling smile meant more than a thousand words to him. Her tears of happiness on Jack's chest-if they were meant for him- made him know that he was accepted. That he could truly make her happy after all. He needed nothing else. If she never chose to say anything, he would not despair.

It was all about her, this marvel; this beautiful woman. A wonder no novel could ever describe. He, for one, could rave on forever.

Here, at the top of the Empire State Building, one could see the end of a once feared monster- a king of his native land-lose all self pride and aggressiveness. Now it could only receive pity. But the light still shone, and it was beautiful. Everything had its beginnings, and he could see Anne in his horizon.


End file.
